Disclaimer: Same as last chapter.
He can't see the smile I'm fakin'
And my heart's not breakin'
'Cause I'm not feelin' anything at all
And you were wild and crazy
Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated
-The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift
The sharp ring of my landline (who still calls on the landline, anyway?) shattered my thoughts and took me out of the stupor I had been in for the last two hours. Stupid Derrick, stupid Kemp, stupid me!
Scotch should go die in a hole and so should Massie's incredibly comfortable mattresses.
"Hello?" I asked when my inner rant ended.
"Kuh-laire! You get your ass in my house, now!" Massie screeched into the phone. I had to move my ear away from the ancient phone to keep some of my hearing intact.
"Mass…" I said cautiously. The instinct to creep quietly when it came to an angry Massie Block never leaves. "What is going on?"
There was silence for a moment and I could just hear her fuming. "Just come over to my house where the PC and I will be waiting. We'll tell you then." She hung up without a goodbye.
As I walked the few feet to the Block's main house, I felt terrified. Maybe it would have been best to stay in my dorm in the city. Then maybe nothing would have gone amiss this weekend. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel so confused about everything.
You know what? I am staying in blissful denial. It's a much better (and less emotionally damaging) place to be.
I opened the door, not noticing (or caring) that it was unlocked. Feeling incredibly anxious to know what was going on, I almost sprinted toward Massie's room, the unofficial meeting place. This time, I knocked before I entered. I had the uncanny feeling I was going to go through something that would make The Godfather proud.
Alicia opened the door, a stony look on her self-proclaimed exotic face. I gulped, hearing the sound reverberate through the eerily quiet room. What the hell could I have done?
"Hey guys," I said shakily.
"Claire, I think you've noticed that we aren't exactly pleased with you. There's no reason for pleasantries," Kristen replied, her lips pursing.
"I think a brick wall could have noticed," I responded wryly. "The only question is: why are you so displeased with me?"
Dylan, never one to say anything bluntly, answered me. "You know that Kemp is our friend? He's a friend to all of us. And being a friend means you have certain duties to that friend."
I didn't like where this was going. "Yes, I understand he's our friend. Is there a reason why you need to tell me?"
"Cut the crap, Claire," Massie finally spoke. "We all saw you go into one of my spare bedrooms last night with Derrick Harrington. Guess you've always had a thing for players, huh?"
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I tried to look peeved at the mere suggestion. As if, nothing happened. "Are you kidding me, Massie? I would never do that Kemp. He's my boyfriend and I care extremely about him."
Derrick's voice echoed in my mind, "Notice you didn't say that you love said boyfriend. Can't bring yourself to have feelings for the now incredibly boring boy?" Damn it, why can't my mind shut up and forget about him?
"Just stop with the innocent act, Lyons!" Alicia shrieked. Yet, all I could think of was how much nicer my surname sounded when Derrick said it. "We know that something happened. You two weren't exactly very secretive or quiet about your little escapade."
"Claire, just tell us the truth," Dylan interrupted before Alicia could bite my head off. "Did you sleep with him?"
I felt surrounded and nearly claustrophobic. The gig seems up, doesn't it? I don't think pulling the innocent face would work this time. I hung my head sadly, coming to a decision. I hate my conscience sometimes. "Yes, I slept with him."
Massie shook her head at me. "I can't believe you, Claire. How could you do that to Kemp? He loves you!"
"I don't know, I just don't know," I mumbled, almost to myself. I looked up at their faces shimmering with disapproval, anger, and pity. "Can we just forget this ever happened? Kemp doesn't have to know since I will never do that again. How about it?" I smiled slightly.
Alicia and Dylan shared a brief look, something I normally wouldn't have caught. However, I did, and the realization of what that look meant was more than I could handle.
"You've already told him?" I demanded.
Kristen looked down at her feet, seeming remorseful. "He deserved to know, Claire."
"But you weren't even sure I did anything! You asked me like two minutes ago!" I cried. Why, why, why is this happening? One night and everything is crashing down! This is the worst thing that has happened in my life.
Alicia's eyes spit fire at him. I had almost forgotten that she was closest to Kemp. "We were sure, Claire. The only reason we even asked you to come over was to confront you and so you know that you did something wrong. And, we have a message from Kemp."
I glared at them all. "What would that be?"
"He said to tell you, 'I'll be in Westchester in an hour. Meet me in the park.'"
"And when did he say this?" I sighed, knowing that this was going to be bad.
"Around 45 minutes ago," Massie said, her demeanor radiating an icy chill. "So you better get going. You know Kemp; he's always there at least ten minutes ahead of schedule. Or maybe you don't know Kemp. Because I'm sure he doesn't enjoy being cheated on."
I didn't respond to Massie's thinly veiled insult. I simply turned around and walked out the door to face my undoubtedly furious boyfriend.
-0-
The day was ironically beautiful. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping merrily, and the park was abuzz with life. There were little kids playing in the swings and slides as their WASP mothers gossiped among themselves. Everyone seemed happy to be alive today, as if there was some effervescent drug in the air.
My inner turmoil, however, kept me from fully appreciating any of this.
Kemp was standing under the oak tree, one surprisingly similar to the one at OCD. We've spent so many good memories there, and it seems like we're committing blasphemy by making it the site of our likely break-up. He looked immaculate; his hair was in place for once, his clothes seemed carefully chosen, but his eyes (even from here) were as blank as an empty glass.
I looked terrible. My hair was tangled and dirty, remnants of the… active night before; my clothes were in a haphazard manner and my aura spread one word forward: Guilty.
"Hey, Kemp," I said as I reached the oak.
"Hey yourself." His voice was as vacant as his eyes.
"So… I guess it's kind of obvious why we're here." My voice was hoarse because of the nerves, but I was afraid to clear my throat. I didn't know what could set off the ticking clock that is Kemp Hurley.
My statement seemed to snap some life into him. "Yeah, Claire, it is 'kind of obvious'. When you cheat on someone and the person finds out, it is kind of obvious what they would talk about."
"Kemp," I said softly. "I am so sorry."
"Of course you're sorry," he began angrily. Guess the life is back in him. "That's what everyone says when they do something. It doesn't necessarily mean they mean it, do they?"
"But I mean it!" I shrieked. "It was stupid, reckless, drunken sex with someone I barely get along with! Why can't you believe I'm sorry about it?"
"Because you did it in the first place! If I was so damn important to you, then maybe I might have cropped up in your mind at least once while you were having fun with Derrick Harrington."
I growled in frustration, rubbing my temples where a headache was growing. Why doesn't he just believe me? It's not as if it was such a big deal! Maybe it's because you know that you would do it again in a second, my inner voice taunted. My rational, and currently my favorite side, shut up that voice and found something to retort.
"Kemp, I'm telling you, it will never happen again. Just please, believe me on this one thing."
"How can I? Maybe I deserve all of this! I mean, I was player for almost all of my life and cheating on girls was like a favorite pastime. I think karma is getting back at me from its long overdue vendetta. Now I know how those girls probably felt. Being cheated on is the worst feeling in the world." Kemp hung his head sadly, shuffling his feet. "It's like I'm not good enough for anyone. I feel rejected, hurt, stupid, and dozens of other emotions that I can't even decipher. It sucks."
My eyes widened sadly and I tilted his chin upwards with a finger. "I never want to hear you say that again. You are not stupid; you are so worthy that it makes other guys seem undignified, ugly, and so completely useless. You're amazing, Kemp, and any girl would be lucky to have you."
Kemp half-smiled. "Does this mean that we're breaking up?"
I smiled back shyly. "I don't want to."
"Then we won't," he said with a tone of finality. "I believe you didn't really mean it. I mean come on, it's Derrick Harrington!"
I laughed nervously, surprisingly myself. Normally, I would be hunched over laughing at the mere suggestion of Derrick having feelings for someone. But now, I don't know. I keep hearing his words repeatedly, making me crazy. I hate it, but it makes this whole reconciliation with Kemp less than sweet, makes me feel something akin to regret.
But I have to forget about that. I'm with Kemp and that's all that matters. No matter what that stupid inner voice says.
-0-
Kemp stayed with me for most of the day before he had to rush back to Massachusetts. He had left without much notice and somehow Ivy League schools frown upon that. It just reminded of his bad boy persona. Honestly, it gave me a little thrill to know he still had it.
I twirled my red umbrella Kemp had just bought me. It was cloudy and little raindrops were beginning to fall. It was a laughable contrast to how it had been when I was about to meet my still-boyfriend.
"Lyons!" A voice shouted out to me. I heard their footsteps falling rapidly as they ran toward me. Oh please, for the love of God, don't let it be--
Derrick grabbed my hand and turned me around, almost as easily as I had with my umbrella. Apparently, soccer does work some of your arm muscles. "Lyons," he panted, keeping his hand intertwined in mine. Damn those tingles. "We are going to talk about what happened. And I heard that you and Hurley had 'a talk' today. How are you?" His thumb stroked my knuckle softly.
I wrenched my hand out of his grip. "Who are you and what have you done with Derrick Harrington? Because the boy I know doesn't ask a one night stand if they are fine after having talk with their boyfriends."
He glared down at me. "Why are you continuing to deny that you are not just a one night stand? To be honest, it's getting rather annoying."
"Oh, I'm getting annoying?" I looked disbelievingly at him. "While you're the one mobbing me around asking for a talk?"
"Point taken. But, you know why we need to talk. This is not just another daily occurrence in my life. I don't feel this way around the girls I slept with." Derrick ran a hand through his hair, and I almost had to restrain myself from removing his hand and doing it myself.
Where are these thoughts coming from? Oh right, that inner voice of mine.
"You might just be a little confused. Maybe because I'm slightly closer to you than your other whores." Did I just call them whores? Dylan was one of them, and trust me, she is the farthest thing from a whore. What is wrong with me?
"Damn it, Lyons! You know I care about you! Stop acting as though I was drunk when I said it and you were drunk when you heard it. We were both sober enough to understand what the other was saying. You were sober enough to know you kissed me and you know what would happen when we entered the guest bedroom. Stop lying to me and yourself!" His eyes blazed with fury, directed at me for once. I have never seen him honestly angry with me. He's never lost his patience with me.
…Maybe because what he's saying is true?
"Harrington, I just can't do this right now. I can't do this at any time! I am still with Kemp and I want to be with him. He's--"
Derrick disgustedly interrupted. "Please, I'd rather not hear about Hurley's supposed good qualities. But why can't you do this right now? If it were such a horrible idea that I cared about you, then why haven't you just told me, plain and simple, 'No'? You could have said it yesterday. You could have said it this morning. You could say it now. But you haven't. You have avoided and tried to put me off, but you've never told exactly how you feel. That's one thing I want to hear right now."
I shook my head, trying to stop him from his monologue, trying to stop myself from hearing any of this. Because I know that if I let myself fully comprehend what he's saying, I won't be able to keep my promise to Kemp. "I can't tell you what I feel. Because I'm not even sure! I don't know if I hate you, like you, just want you to go away forever, I don't know! I can't give you an answer to a question I'm not prepared to answer."
"Lyons, you don't always have to know everything. Sometimes you just have to feel things, ignoring logic and whatever other crap is keeping you from knowing what you want. I know that you don't love Kemp; it is plain to see for me. I know you more than you think I do and you know me more than you think you do. Just listen to something other than that rational part of your brain."
My logical side told me to walk away. My logic told me to forget all about him and stay with Kemp. Sweet, dependable, boring, Kemp. My rational side told me to do many things, one of which wasn't grabbing Derrick by the scruff of his neck and slamming my lips on his. My inner voice cheered me on while a bubbly feeling gave me tingles all around. He dragged me closer, deepening the already fiery kiss.
This was wrong; this was so, so wrong. I couldn't be doing this once again to Kemp. I care about him, more like a brother than an actual boyfriend, but I care about him. I can't hurt him without feeling a little hurt myself. But being with Derrick is amazing. Not just the physical aspect, but also the other parts. Our banter, the way I could spend a whole day with him and never feel bored, the way he sometimes seems protective of me. Everything with him is intense and incredible and I wouldn't trade being with him for a safe and monotonous relationship.
My rational side once again disagreed with the entire ordeal and I very nearly believed it. Then Derrick Harrington, player extraordinaire, did something with his tongue that wiped my mind of all thoughts but one.
Sod off, logic.
